Category: women

It has now been exactly one week since my massive panic attack, and I am still not myself.

I am okay, I guess…but I wake up every morning to a racing heart, to a stomach that is clenched as if waiting for bad news, or a swift punch.

This is NOT ME. This is not the way I wake up, the way I am. I hate it and I don’t know what to do to make it stop. I’m doing all the things I normally do that have helped me before- rest and meditation, exercise and prayer. Nothing seems to keep the moments of pure anxiety away.

It is very hard to pretend to be okay when you are anything but okay. But when you are a mom, it is important to at least try. The thing is, when I am very anxious, I am concentrating so hard on just trying not to let things spin out of control that I have little room for anything else. My patience is worn so thin. This is not the way I want to be living my life.

And I can’t help but think…what is this about? First, a panic attack at the end of December, then another one at the beginning of February. Before that, years and years and years since the last one. What is trying to come up? What is it that is asking to be healed? What am I missing?

Crazy to think that my own mind might be hiding something from me, or that my own consciousness is choosing not to understand something, but I can’t help but wonder- is this really just a fluke, or is this an opportunity for resolution? Resolution of some pain or some wound that I am just not seeing? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bat shit crazy, but I’d like to believe that there is a reason. I’d like very much to know what that reason is.

Today, I am just going to try to be patient and loving with myself, and with others. I am going to remember that I can survive my feelings, even when it doesn’t seem like I can. I have a perfect record so far of withstanding every single one of them. I am going to take my dog for a walk, and if the walk doesn’t feel like enough, then I will run. I will run until all this nervous energy dissipates, and if it comes back, I will find another way to discharge it. I will tend to myself. I will continue to work through this. I bet there will even be moments today when I am happy, as there have been every other day.

Not only with others, but most of all, with myself. I am my own worst critic, always thinking back to some awful thing I did in the past, or worrying about things that I might do wrong down the road, rarely able to give myself any credit for the beautiful life I have provided for myself, here and now. I am forever berating myself for almost every little thing I do- and even when I do it right, I could have done it better.

So today, I am practicing being gentle with myself. Every time my mind starts galloping off into the future or flailing away uselessly at the past, I am gently bringing it back, to right here, right now. This morning, I was morbidly imagining myself with some life-threatening illness, worrying about how my children would fare if I should die. I had to pull myself back- Courtney, you are not dying in a hospital bed. You are standing at your sink, washing your daughter’s water canteen, absolutely healthy. You are fine. You are fine.

Yesterday, while I was meditating, I was having trouble with the sheer volume of my thoughts. There were so many things my anxious brain needed me to acknowledge right NOW. All of the sudden, I had this immense compassion for myself. An image popped into my mind, unbidden, of big me holding little Courtney in her arms. I ran my hands down 7-year-old-me’s back, and could feel the little knobs of my spine, the little angel wings of my shoulder blades sticking out. I told myself “it’s okay. Shhh…it’s okay.”. I don’t know where that image arose from, but it was powerful. The little girl in me needed that hug, that acknowledgement so badly. I may be a grown woman now, but that child is still in there, somewhere. And if it is hard to be gentle with me, perhaps I won’t struggle so much being gentle with her.

Here’s the thing- I want to fully inhabit my life. I do not have a desire to be bound by all the rules and dogma that I have either grown up with or invited in myself over the years. I want to be free. And all of this is brand new to me- it’s like I woke up two weeks ago and started questioning every single thing I believed to be true. I am starting at zero, trying to figure out who I am, really, and how I want to show up in the world going forward.

And the very first gift I choose to give myself today is this- be gentle. Be gentle with yourself, and with those around you. Let other people have their thoughts and feelings and perspectives, and choose to walk around them- let things be. Just like I told little me in that meditation yesterday…Shh…it’s okay. Everything is okay.

Okay, so…last time I posted, I basically announced that I was quitting recovery, and then I disappeared off the face of the earth. I’m assuming that some of you figure I’ve been in a blacked-out stupor since then, busy torching the life I worked so hard to pull together.

Well, let me reassure you (or disappoint you, depending on what kind of person you are) that nothing could be further from the truth. I may or may not have mentioned that I finally fulfilled my resolution to give up smoking and vaping? Yeah, that happened last Thursday, so I’m a little bit over a week in now. I’ve been using the patch to get me through it, and some weird things happen to me on that patch. Well, not that weird- actually it’s pretty common, but…I have the most crazy dreams. Super freaky. My dreams are kinda strange and vivid anyway, but this turns up the weirdness to full blast. The thing about it, though, is that I enjoy the hell out of those dreams. I can’t seem to get enough of them. Or maybe it’s just harder to get out of bed, knowing there’s no nicotine reward waiting for me- either way, I’ve had a harder time getting out of bed in the morning. So it’s harder for me to fit in writing here, you see.

What else? Oh yeah, I’ve been eating as though it were my mission in life to explode my body from the inside out. Basically, I’ve completely lost the reigns of all my January resolutions this week, and I don’t know why, but I suspect it’s the giving up the smokes/vape thing. But yesterday I had an excuse- I went to my works anniversary brunch for people who have been with the hospital for ten years or longer. My first one! It was at the very swanky ballroom at Spanish Bay (in Pebble Beach, the golf mecca) and they provided a lavish buffet. I am not one to ever turn down a buffet. And no matter how I promise myself I will make wise choices and eat fruit and yogurt, I crumble in the face of Eggs Benedict and piles of bacon and sausage. I just can’t help it.

So that was my breakfast. I got to have the rest of the day off, and had offered to buy a good friend of mine lunch if she’d pick up Camryn from school, assuming I’d be hungry again by then. I had scheduled my annual mammogram for that afternoon, forgetting that I had it off. I would have much preferred to do that on a day I was working, so I could feel like “hey, if I have to get my boob squashed, at least I got out of work”, but I messed that up. Anyway, I was NOT hungry by the time I got out of there, but did that stop me from eating a massive sandwich? Of course it didn’t.

The end result of that being, I wound up in bed with a horrible stomach ache around 6 p.m., and Cam’s dad had to come over to see to her dinner and homework. I got up once to check on them, and he was asleep on the couch, while Cam had made some type of slime concoction to which she’d added a pencil sharpener, a hair clip, and something else I can’t recall. The fact that I didn’t even care should illuminate my state of mind for you. Normally, that would have really pissed me off, the lack of supervision. I just noted it and went back to bed. I didn’t even wash my face last night, that’s how zonked I was.

In other news, we got a kitten on Monday. Her name is Lily, and she is a 3 month old long-haired Calico. I can’t even deal with how cute she is. I’ll share pictures with you soon!

So, there’s my week- eating too much, sleeping too much, not handling my business the way I generally prefer to do. But I haven’t put anything in my lungs besides air, so I’m still calling it a win. I think today I will pull it together again.

*** Warning: This is not as happy as most of my recent posts. Teensy bit of a bummer***

I went on to have a bad day yesterday…after the beautiful weekend, after the peace and happiness I held in my heart and in my body as I wrote my post yesterday.

Work was…the same as it always is. The same, same, same. I began to wonder if maybe, reading chart after chart of sick and injured patients- if maybe I took on some of that. Some of the emotion- the fear, the worry, the sadness- that I read day in and day out. I have said before, I am very impressionable. My body grew tighter and more tense as the day went on.

By 2:30, the anxiety had started to blossom in my chest. I tried to resist it, but that never works. I tried to sit with it, to reason with it, to ignore it. Nothing. Nothing worked. The terrible thoughts began to bombard my mind- car wrecks and kidnappings and all of the ideas that plague me when my children aren’t within arms reach. My mind becomes a bitter enemy.

And now I am starting to see what comes after the anxiety rushes out- after the child is home, safe and sound, leaving this giant space inside of me where all that worry had been. After the relief of her arrival-that brief, sweet, space- has also fled. I am left with this…this awfulness. This feeling that my mind has done it, once again, splintered away from reason, led me down this dark path. And then I am angry. I am angry with myself, but it comes out in other ways. Impatience with homework, intolerance, temper. The anxiety leaves me with another mess. I am finally seeing it.

This morning, I am once again left with the task of forgiving myself. Of loving myself despite my defects. Telling myself that healing is not a straight path- there are dips and bends, and times when the road doubles back on itself. The times when I am angry and lost are so brief now, but they seem to bother me so much more. And you know…no one went to bed with hurt feelings last night. Cam crept into my room and slept beside me while I was sleeping. It wasn’t that bad. But I want it to be better. I always wish it were better.

I crave quiet this morning. I turned the radio off in the car, let the sound of the rain fill my ears, the low hum of the car. Even now, I hear nothing but the rain outside, and it is all I want. I don’t want to scroll through Facebook, or hear anymore of the godforsaken news of this fucked up world. I have enough on my plate right here. Right inside these walls. I am on my guard, of course, praying the anxiety does not return today. It gets old. It gets old not feeling safe in your own life, knowing it’s all just a lie your brain is making up. It gets old not knowing what to do to fix it.

So today, I’m just going to be quiet. I’m just going to breathe. And try to figure out how to clear this hurdle.

I want to give a little run-down of my weekend, but of course, I’ve waited too long to write and now I have no time left.

I ended my Friday night with selfies with my cat, Frankenstein.

Suffice to say, I had the loveliest of weekends. Why, you ask? Well, on this particular weekend, there were several factors that added up to contribute to the loveliness. One of the things is that I have gotten quite comfortable with my daughter being off with her dad from Friday evening until late Saturday afternoon, so I can really enjoy my time alone. And this weekend, it really was time alone- I went to bed at like 7:30 Friday night, slept like a log, woke up in the morning, did some writing, meditated, basically…I did whatever felt good to me in that moment.

My screamin’ soup with way too much garlic bread. Yum. I miss that soup already.

I made a big pot of soup which I shared with my ex when he brought Cam home, and if we did anything exciting Saturday night, I can’t recall what it was right now. Sunday morning, I got up early, did all the same things I did Saturday except I added in my weekly “luxury bath” where I dump in dead-sea minerals and essential oils, glop on a face mask and soak until my skin prunes up. Ahh. Not too shabby. Around 10 or so, I woke Camryn up and we headed to Carmel beach to walk Lucy, stopping at the best donut store on the planet first for a massive bag of donut holes.

Cam, in free-fall

Carmel beach on Sundays is kind of our new thing. You can let your dogs roam freely on this beach, and it is truly dog paradise. There are at least 50 dogs- probably more, just running around, sniffing each other’s asses. God, I’m glad I’m not a dog. Anyway, if you are ever out this way and need a dog fix, this is the place for you. Seriously. Camryn just lost her freaking mind when she saw a Basset Hound yesterday. I think she might have scared the dog a little, but in all fairness, it’s pretty easy to have a dog-related meltdown when you are surrounded by that much fur and happiness. I had a similar reaction last weekend brought on by a Newfoundland. They are just incredible.

The Newfoundland that made me lose my shit.Just a surfer, and a breathtaking view. No big deal.

So, we took a healthy stroll before heading home. Once we arrived home, I took a short nap, and after getting out of bed around 2:30, I had some coffee and started kicking ASS. I cleaned house for a solid two hours, tackling things that I’d had no intention of getting into when I’d started. After things were neat enough, I did my second day of the 30 day Yoga with Adrien challenge on YouTube, and let me tell you- she is GREAT. I am really liking this whole yoga thing, much to my surprise.

Cam and I worked together to finish her homework packet after dinner, and she was SO proud of herself for figuring out her math (thank God she did, because this new math is freaking confusing) and I showed her how to check it with my calculator- with every right answer, she was more pleased with herself. Finally, after a quick trip to the store, it was time for her bath and reading.

At the end of it all, in her fresh jammies, with her hair in a bun, she said “Well, mom- for once I finally accomplished something.” I know she meant her homework, and of course it wasn’t the first time she’s ever finished it…but it might have been the first time she did it and felt proud of her work. I know how good that feeling is. I’m glad she got to experience that feeling- I was feeling it too last night. That sense of accomplishment that comes when you strike a good balance in your day. Just enough play, just enough work.

My future home. Seriously, is this out of control or what? What a view they must have!

I had a huge sense of accomplishment when I went off to bed last night. It has carried over into this morning, and I hope it bodes well for the week. Happy Monday! Get out there and kick some ass!

It’s Thursday, and I wasn’t planning on writing anything this morning, but there are a couple of things I want to share, none of them enough for a post on their own.

1.) I decided, at the end of last year, to try out one of those meal-delivery things- the kind where they send you the food and the recipe, and with a little work, you make the dinner they send you? Well, I landed on Hello Fresh, ( I started with the vegetarian plan with some vague idea that it would be healthier) and I must say, I am kind of digging it! I have made chickpea tacos, a roasted veggie farro bowl-salad type thing, and risotto so far. It isn’t so much that I am wild about the things I’ve cooked, so much as I’m impressed at how easy it is to cook things I’ve never tried making. I am learning a LOT about cooking, and this thrills me. I mean, prior to this past week, I don’t think I’ve ever zested a lemon or a lime more than once or twice…I learned how to make a really easy, tasty salad dressing, and that you can turn sour cream into a fancy crema just by adding some junk to it. Also, risotto is not as hard as everyone whines that it is. My one complaint is this: In the first recipe, it called for an avocado, and the avocado they sent me was harder than a baseball. In the second recipe, they forgot my garlic altogether (luckily, I had my own). The third recipe had everything and it was fine. I think I’ll be trying some of the not-vegetarian ones, going forward, and maybe even some of the other companies out there. There are so many of them! Why not shop around?

2.) Speaking of food- a friend of mine, a male friend, stopped by for a while last night. I fed him some of the dinner I’d made (because naturally, Cam was not interested in either farro or roasted veggies 😦 ) and we just sat around, trying to have a conversation. I say “trying” because Cam was suddenly speaking at full volume, and cannon-balling off the couch, interrupting, and basically being a complete mess. I finally had to get stern with her- she’s pretty high energy anyway, but this was next level. Anyway, he stayed for maybe an hour, and went home, probably relieved to get the hell out of here. This morning I asked her what that was all about. Didn’t she like my friend? “As a friend for you, yes.” I asked if it worried her because he was a boy, and if so, why? I honestly thought she would say she didn’t know, or she wanted my attention for herself. Instead, she said “I worry that you’ll forget about daddy.”

Ugh. One of those heart-wrenching moments when you instantly get tears in your eyes. I was truly thrown for a loop, as her dad and I have been broken up since she was 3 or 4. I just told her that I would never, ever forget about her daddy, and left it at that. But it made me sad. Poor kid. I’ve tried to make things as happy and family-like with her dad as possible. We get along great these days, and co-parent, and I thought it was the best thing for her…now I wonder if I’ve just made her more confused.

Parenting is weird and hard, no matter how you crack it.

Anyway, those are my thoughts this morning. Boxes of food, and my kid. Not all that unusual, really. Now excuse me, I have to take my cinnamon rolls out of the oven. And no, they were not made out of guilt- they were made out of a can, because I promised. And because they are super yummy.

So, I guess Camryn has decided to grow up over Christmas break. I mean, I knew it was starting when she would wait for me to leave the room before jumping in the shower. My daughters are both exceptionally modest about their bodies (I literally have no idea where they picked this up, unless it’s just one of those things where they are as opposite of me as possible), but still…she’ll let me come in and wash her hair once she’s in the tub. She just doesn’t want me in the room as she gets in the tub. So whatever, I play along.

Well, now she is washing her own hair, too. I’m not sure how well it’s being washed yet, but it smells okay. And I’m glad for it, I really am. These are things she should be able to do for herself, of course they are. But now she’s totally sleeping 100% in her own room. Just like I wanted. I’m proud of her, and glad that she just made up her mind and did this thing- this thing that I’ve been complaining about for at least the past year. I really wanted her in her own bed! Except…except last night, I had to threaten to make her come sleep with me if she didn’t settle down in her room and get to sleep. Sleeping with me is now a punishment. Sigh.

And yesterday? Yesterday, I said “Hey, can you do mommy a favor?” to her, and she said “Sure, but can you stop saying “mommy”? “Mom” would be fine.”

Well, shit. Why don’t you just stab me straight in the heart, you little beastie?

Only I said nothing, because she is doing what she is supposed to do- she’s growing up. Not too much, it’s just happening sort of all at once, and it’s alarming, and what’s more, it’s very, very sad. She is my baby. But she is not a baby anymore, and that is a fact. Trying to keep her there would be harmful and wrong, so…I’m just trying to mourn in private, and let her enjoy her tiny bits of independence.

Last night when her dad brought her home, he waited until she was in the other room and he was like “What is going on with her?!” I didn’t really need to ask what he meant. She’s been a little prickly, a little extra…extra, if you know what I mean. I said “Well, she’s growing up a little, and we need to be patient with her, but firm…and whatever you do, don’t tell her she’s a bad kid. Tell her she’s a good kid, and we expect better behavior from her.”

Because I remember being that age- that age where you just aren’t a sweet little angel anymore, and you do have an opinion, and you’re trying to figure out how to have some autonomy…and end up looking like a little jack-ass. The adults in my life were horrified, asking me “what happened to you?” or “This isn’t the Courtney I know.” and reinforcing what a monster I’d become. This was not helpful. I honestly believed the things I heard- and I’m sure no one intended it meanly, but it was how I HEARD it, and internalized it. I thought something had gone wrong with me, and I was a disappointment, somehow. But I was just growing up, trying to figure stuff out. Just like Cam is now. My job is to parent and love her through it, to guide her, watch her, and be firm with her. What a trip to be able to understand what is happening. I hope I’m up for the challenge.

In other news, Milo, the cat who didn’t have rabies, has come over from the dark side. The formerly hissing, spitting, scratching, biting little demon has started sleeping beside me in bed, and purring every time I touch her. She cries when I go outside. Proof that if you shine enough love on the saltiest of creatures, it will eventually get through to them and they will change. It’s easier to do this with animals than people, but it works on both. Just love the grouchy ones…they need it most.

So there it is- babies and kittens grow up and change, and who they become depends a lot on how much and how well they are loved- because you can be loved very much, and still not be loved WELL. Another lesson I’ve picked up along the way. Another thing I wish I’d known sooner. But I know it now, and that will have to be enough.